you need a big breakfast to power your pants,
and catapult your butt into the future.
yeah.
that's a thing.
the most important meal is the one you're eating right now.
don't let anybody tell you otherwise, kids.
i'm serious.
if you aren't immersed in a sensory symphony whenever you sit down to munch up,
you're missin' the whole point-
and that's why i had skillets and pans in the oven and on the stove,
with bowls and pots and everything else poppin' off and powering up
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress test kitchen laboratory....
uh-huh.
neighbors,
i made a BIG ol' batch of big B brekkie bonanza jauns,
and i want you to check the mutha-flippin' teleport right now:
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORD!!
that's crepes, overstuffed with all the breakfasty fixxin's,
and then a few sprankles,
and a smashing dash of pumpkin seeds, just to keep it october af.
yessss!!
i don't think you're truly comprehending the actual big picture, man.
look closer:
YEAH, BOIIIIIIIII!!!
if you can't grasp how expert that is,
i think you might want to go to the doctor.
seriously, you might be an A*-hole.
i had custom crepe batter ready to pour onto a hot skillet.
-
*
CREPE-WALKIN'!
-
1 cup flour;
1/4 cup gabanzo flour;
1/4 tsp salt;
3 T sugar;
1 T ground golden flaxseed;
1 1/4 cup non-dairy milk;
1/2 cup water;
whisk, stir, mix, combine, rest, stir, thin as necessary, pour, flip, and eat.
y'ever make crepes before?
they're easy, you just ever so lighty-lightly grease a very hot pan,
pour your thin batter on, and turn/roll/swivel the pan to make a circle out of the wet stuff,
it'll quickly dry out, which means it's cooked,
but flip it once anyway, to give it a little activation on the other side.
that's genuinely all there is to it.
and they're spongy, soft, light, tight and TILTY jauns,
perfect for overloading with all the most luxurious morning glory.
wordimus prime.
like,
oven-roasted, ho'sauce splashed, smoky skin-on red potato homeboyfries.
those are what's UP.
*
two potatoes, cubed;
pink salted & olive oiled, in a roasting pan, while the oven heats up to 400+℉,
turning every eleven minutes, until they're crispy and golden at the edges.
added to 1/4 diced sweet onion,
smoked paprika, GPOP, and black pepper;
finished off with frank's or pete's or whatever you're into....
expert potato wizard hottness is a must, though.
so don't skip 'em, or you're doing it wrong.
*
and that scrambo?
man, you aren't even ready yet.
one block of exxxtra-frim tofu,
generous blasts of GPOP, nootch, turmeric, salt and pepper,
plus a little smoky paprika, a 1/4 minced sweet onion,
and a chopped-up baby-sized sweet red bell pepper.....
that's delicious.
olive oil and medium high heat, and a scrapin' spatula scramble from time to time
is honestly all you'll ever need to concern yourself with
when you're cooking up something this rad.
...and with a few tasty tablespoons of hemp hearts tossed in towards the end???
that's nutritious as hell, you little devils.
*
how do you upgrade something that'd be elite with just those three things?
well, first you popeye that sh!t with some hand-torn baby spinach leaves,
then you drop some scallion and cilantro sprig sprankles down, too.
those make everything better.
that's when you turn it up a little MORE,
and smoosh a little AVO-F*ING-CADO on top, too.
i mean,
don't be a dummy. that's how you make your life better.
obvi.
anything else?
yup.
sprouts!
because they're s'kyooooooooooot.
and,
those agave-glazed oil-toasted pepitas for hallowe'enified fresh-to-deathness
(and crawnch) absolutely gave it a boost, as well.
for sure.
what's left?
sriracha for the WIN!!!
guys,
two kinds of ho'sauce in one place?
that's expert.
rubbery stretch-ups full of crispness and smooshiness and crawnchiness?
that's expert.
eating a bazillionteen pounds of these bad boys in one shot?
that's shark-gluttony, actually,
but,
-plot twist-
that's expert, too!!
hahaha.
i have a system in place for eating breakfast,
and the main tenet is that too much is the right amount.
you're more than welcome to test that as often as you'd like,
but i'm confident you'll find my assertions airtight.
***********
dudes,
yesterday marked eighteen years of tattooing.
like,
my career is old enough to vote in official sanctioned elections,
although, like me, it will NOT participate in that noise.
like,
i just did a hard styled hard time bid,
but it's eighteen and life to go, bros.
yup.
eighteen years since i sat in the tattoo chair, held a fully-functional machine,
with needle and tube in place for the first time,
and zapped up the thigh of my buddy mitch.
huh?
no, i didn't practice on oranges first.
no, i didn't F* with pigskin (ew).
no, there was no such thing as 'practice skin' that wasn't made of human being.
those were the last of the old days, man-
and it may not ever be as raw and rugged and real as it was back then ever again.
ANYway,
all this time has passed,
and somehow, i'm still up here in the woodsly goodness,
working harder than ever, seven effing days a week,
a ways away from everywhere, and everyone, who was part of the come up,
doing what i do, just like always, without stopping.
THAT'S how real tattooers do it, duders.
every day is the hardest and the best.
every day is the longest and the fastest.
every day is another huge opportunity to do what i do, louder, harder, bigger, better,
and more intensely than the one before.
it's not the worst way to span time.
eighteen years of the same day, over and over,
but,
it's a pretty good day.
i am grateful for the time i have been given-
the clients that don't suck;
the clients who suck but pay well;
the coworkers who've stayed true;
the coworkers who sucked balls;
the lovers who've loved hard,
and the lovers who've left harder;
the friends who've moved and come back;
the friends who pay for tattoos and leave afterwards;
the time that has been spanned-
all of it has motivated me to do MORE, and better,
every F*ing damned day,
and i imagine there's only ever more where that came from.
it's all really happening, still,
and it's only eighteen years and one day later into that lifetime sentence;
never quiet, never soft.....
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